Key
by Liebling
Summary: She throws her arms around his neck and starts crying noisy tears. She doesn't know how to cry quietly. She's supposed to be so grown-up, but she's not really.' (RonHermione)


**Author's Notice:** Yeah, this took me like ten minutes :) I was bored so I was like, I need t0 write this. So I did! I like it, it's simple and easy and charming...it's so quirky, so Ron/Hermione. Which is why I love them together. They're both horrid dorks, but they're lovely together. Anywayz, I was planning on taking a leave from ff.net but maybe later :) Every summer I take some sort of leave from it, so it'll probably be coming up. Enjoy this.  
  
**Disclaimer:** J.K Rowling...far more brilliant than I!  
  
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It's so obvious. It should be written in Hogwarts a History it's so obvious.  
  
If she loves him, and he loves her, then they should be able to love...together. They should be Hogwarts' next item. They should kiss in the hallways, and laugh together in the courtyard. He should swirl his spoon around his oatmeal and feed her a bite, as the oatmeal drips down her chin and she playfully slaps him. If she loves him, and he loves her, then they should be able to love...together.  
  
It is obvious she loves him. She laughs at his silly jokes, the one's the other boy rolls his eyes at. She puts her hand on his shoulder when he's sad and gives him that eye...that, _I know what the matter is_ eye. Because she does. She always knows what's going on with her boys. She goes to his quidditch games and cheers for him, even if no one else will. She only sort of minds the jokes about her and him getting together. Never never never...yeah right.   
  
It's obvious he loves her. He puts up with her, for one. Her smart aleck behavior, her genius talent. He's even impressed by it. How could one person be so smart...he really wasn't so smart. She was so uncaring of what other people thought of her...and yet so caring sometimes. So quiet, so loud. She was a difficult one, he knew. He thinks she's silly and perfect, and wonders how she doesn't see it. He's lucky he has such good friends.  
  
To the black haired boy it is obvious as well. They might as well just get together and get it over with. They're constantly bickering, like an old married couple and she constantly lectures him. He gets jealous so easily, it'd drive you mad. He doesn't think his friend minds it much, she likes that he's jealous. She's a brat that way. They would never be 'cute' together per se, but they'd be perfect together. Her brown hair to match his red. Same blue eyes, crystals. The genius and the boy struck with poverty. But he was more than just struck with poverty...he was perfect for her, he was brilliant in his own way, and he tried really hard to play quidditch well. And she, as well, was more than a genius. She was a person...flawed by nature, she was not made of ice, she cared what people thought of her...what _he_ thought of her.  
  
One day, they are in the common room. She is sitting on the scarlet sofa, her feet up on the coffee table. A book in her pale hands. She is thinking of him, as she does sometimes.  
  
One day, they are in the common room. He is sitting on the gold armchair, his feet stretched out in front of him. A quidditch figure in his freckled hands. He is thinking of her, as he does sometimes.  
  
It has been a tiring day. Exams. It's the end of sixth year and they are both sixteen. Sixteen comes so fast, sweet sixteen, sixteen candles on a mushy birthday cake. Sixteen. In three days they will be seventh years, very old. Seventeen comes so fast, **saving-grace seventeen**, seventeen candles on a store-bought birthday cake. Things will change, she figures, but one thing will never change.  
  
_"Ron," she says very quietly, "I love you."_  
  
He looks up from the quidditch figurine, smiling slightly and wrings his freckled hands. _"I love you too."_  
  
Quickly, she puts down her book, he throws down his quidditch figurine (someone from the Chudley Cannons.) She stands up from the soft sofa just as he stands up from the stiff armchair. They begin to walk towards each other. So happy. So darn happy they are the only two people in the common room, surprised their secret has been leaked. Surprised they have finally been open with each other.  
  
She throws her arms around his neck and starts crying noisy tears. She doesn't know how to cry quietly. She's supposed to be so grown-up, but she's not really. He's supposed to be so strong, and he is most of the time. She is not so grown-up...she's still the little girl who believes in Prince Charming, castles, and unicorns. He is still the little boy who sets up his toy quidditch field with the keepers, seekers, beaters and more. They are still the best of friends. Since eleven...eleven is quite young.  
  
And here she is with this boy. That boy who loves her so much. This boy that she loves so much as well. This boy she has known for as long as she can think back to...he has always been here for her. Even when she has not been so nice. When she has been cold and withdrawn, unforgiving. He has been by her side, helping her, making her better, trying so hard. She thinks he is better than unicorns and castles. Sixteen is such a nice age.  
  
He smiles down at her, he's so tall, she thinks. He can't believe sixth year is almost over and that they have known each other for so long. She feels so familiar, and telling her he loves her is so natural...so real, so nice, so FINALLY. He isn't sure if he should kiss her or not, so he just keeps hugging her as she keeps hugging back.   
  
And here is where we end our story. In three days they will no longer be sixth years, but seventh years. For some reason, that makes such a big difference. You know, as well as I know, as well as anyone else knows that even being love is difficult. He will have to swallow some of his pride, and she will have to do the same. In good time, she will have to be able to learn to be more open with her emotions to him...he will have to gently urge her to be honest with him. He will have to meet her parents and leave a good impression. She will have to comfort him as his family dies one by one due to the Dark Lord, because many of them will die. She will have to be his rock at times. But really, all they have to do is love each other. For love is the key. The sole key. The only key you need.  
  
And indeed, they love each other.  
  
Black-haired boy walks into the common room after an exhausting quidditch practice, he sees his two friends together and smiles to himself. He's always known what they just found out. He is so happy for them...so happy. They do not notice him, too immersed in each other. Thank you, he says to whatever God he believes in, thank you. Then, he walks out of the common room and decides to get a blueberry tart and some butterbeer down in the kitchens.  
  
In three days, they will be seventh years. In three days, a wild summer will begin.  
  
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End file.
